Never pick a fight with a woman older than 40. They are full of rage & sick of everyone’s shit. They can easily finish ya life. A beautiful woman with a life of strength and grace. I look back on my childhood fondly. I grew up in the country and spent my days playing in the woods and riding horses around the farm. On Sundays I would walk down the dirt road to the little white church with less than 20 people in attendance. It was all wonderful, but at the same time, I also spent a lot of time visiting my dad, who was in and out of the hospital because of a major stroke and kidney failure.
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I remember watching the TV Show Fraggle Rock while waiting for him to finish dialysis. I recall sitting in his hospital room opening a new pair of ice skates on Christmas. And I remember going to a nursing home to see him, a 40-year-old man. He was sick, in pain and confined to a wheelchair. Life was hard. My mother worked as a nurse in the nursing home my dad stayed in, just trying to pay the bills and take care of my older sister and me. Never pick a fight with a woman older than 40. My dad had a kidney transplant, but when the kidney failed, he decided not to go back to dialysis.
I remember him quietly saying to my mother one night as my sister and I were leaving the dinner table: “They don’t realize I am going to die from this.” It was hard to believe as a 10-year-old girl. Moreover, I could never have guessed how his death would shape those of us he left behind. I knew my mother struggled to bear the load of caring for both my father and her two girls. Full of rage and sick of everyone’s shit. I remember asking her to read to me, but she was just too tired. Instead, I read Scripture to her.